Tickle Torture
by Paradoxismminant
Summary: While bothering Ulquiorra, Grimmjow discovers something interesting and possibly horrible/extremely amusing . Contains yaoi at some point and bad language. If it's not your cup of tea, just don't read.
1. Let's Learn a Little Bit

This is my first fan fiction since fourth grade, and my first yaoi. I'm sorry if my writing disappoints; if you see any problems or have any suggestions, please review and tell me. Don't flame though…

**Warning: if the rating didn't warn you, this contains profanity and male-on-male sex at some point.** If it's not your cup of tea, click out right now. There's no need to flame me with your indignant "ewwww omg ur so sick wuts rong wit u??"

I do not even own a bottle of bleach. Neither do I own Bleach, the manga in any way, shape, or form, excepting fandom.

Sorry for the ridiculously long author's note/rant…

(by the way, this seems to be a two-parter at this moment.)

----------

"Hey, Ulquiorra-bastard."

The dark-haired, green-eyed Arrancar looked up slowly from what he'd been doing. "Yes, Grimmjow? What've you come to bother me about this time?" asked Ulquiorra calmly, albeit slightly tiredly. The trashy Sexta in his doorway was _such_ a hassle—bothering him at all hours of the endless night.

"I still think you're a fool. Why didn't you just kill that orange-head while you had a chance? Now he's a pain in the ass that shows up every single fucking time to try and screw everything up. If I were you—"

"But you are _not_ me, Grimmjow. I have explained why I did not eliminate him several times already. Is your intellect so feeble that you still do not understand? Trash is not worth the energy to dispose of," reiterated the calmer, cutting him off.

Grimmjow's eye twitched, and he suddenly stepped into the room and slammed the door. "You're a fucking idiot, you know that?! He fucking _sliced my arm off_, and you're _still_ saying he's not a threat?!!" Snarling, he grabbed at Ulquiorra's lapels, but the Cuarta Espada dodged easily.

"I've told you before, Grimmjow. Do not attack before assessing your opponent. Your haste has been your downfall before…trash."

"SHUT UP!" snarled Sexta, and he lunged forward again. His fingertips grazed Ulquiorra's sides, though, and he felt the green-eyed Arrancar twitch and falter slightly, though still managing to escape. _EH??_ Thought Grimmjow. _What the—?_ He thought for a moment, wondering why Ulquiorra had acted that way. It wasn't as if he'd shocked the guy or whatever.

"Ohh…"said Grimmjow in sudden realization. He threw his head back and began to laugh. He laughed so hard that he doubled over, and hands on knees, he would've seen straight through his own Hollow hole if he could've opened his eyes.

"..I don't see what's so funny," remarked Ulquiorra, tone still neutral, but slightly miffed (if you really listened hard).

Grimmjow kept laughing. "What...is so…funny?" asked Cuatro, slightly annoyed.

"I just found your weakness, bastard!"Grimmjow pointed at him for as long as he could hold his arm out, but eventually had to prop his shaking body up again.

Now Ulquiorra was just confused. "I _do_ have weaknesses, but trash like you will never find them."

Grimmjow finally stopped laughing. He unbent and looked the smaller Hollow straight in his lush, verdant eyes. His own eyes glowed with joy and triumph. "Oh, but I have," grinned the teal-haired man. "What, stupid? Want proof or somethin'?"

Ulquiorra's frown deepened. Taking advantage of the other's momentary confusion, Sexta tackled Cuatro, knocking him backwards onto the bed with a _ploof._ Grimmjow stood with his legs clamped around Ulquiorra's knees to stop him from moving. He leaned in, forearms braced on either side of Cuarta's head, and whispered in the ebony-haired Hollow's ear.

"You're ticklish."

"What?"

"You're ticklish."

"I am _not_ ticklish."

Grimmjow leaned in even closer and breathed, "I can feel your whole body shivering when I get this close." Ulquiorra just twitched a little and gave him an annoyed, long-suffering look.

Sexta moved up to straddle Cuarta at the hips. He ran his fingers down Ulquiorra's sides, and the Cuarta Espada twitched and took a quietly shaky breath. "See?" grinned Grimmjow. Then he commenced to tickling the green-eyed Espada on the neck, the sides—anywhere he could reach.

Ulquiorra bit a blackened lip, trying not to twitch. He succeeded…for about five seconds. Then he was writhing on the bed, underneath his most annoying colleague, actually laughing due to said annoying colleague.

Grimmjow grinned. The guy wasn't so bad when he actually dropped the "I'm-so-cool-and-better-than-everyone-else-except-Aizen-sama-because-everyone-else-is-trash" thing. He tickled his superior harder. Though all this squirming around between his legs was starting to…ah…"give rise" to certain _completely natural_, _perfectly normal_ bodily reactions.

"O-kay…."said Grimmjow, swinging a leg over his superior so that he wasn't straddling him anymore. "I think that's enough for today…"

"Hahahaha….what?" asked Ulquiorra, dazed from coming down from the high of being tickled (for the very first time). "Oh," he said, putting his stoic face back on. "If you wish to leave, do so."

Grimmjow dropped his lids and raised an eyebrow. "Back to high-and-mighty, I see."

"….Trash."

"Fuck you."

And with that last, sweet parting salute, Grimmjow left the room, suave, hands-in-pockets walk concealing the lump in his pants.

Ulquiorra sat up on the bed, silent, as he considered the consequences of this new weakness. Though strangely uncomfortable and pleasurable at the same time, in the end, his throat felt strange and his stomach hurt slightly. Though not a hard ache, it bothered him when he thought about the potential of this weakness being discovered and exploited by others—if trash like the Sexta Espada could find it, what was there to stop anyone—especially the higher-ranks—from finding it and, deciding that he was so much of a liability that he was not worth keeping around, killing him?

He decided to take action and rid himself of this potentially deadly (no irony intended) issue.

---

Grimmjow was walking along the hallways of Hueco Mundo, bored, when he suddenly felt a strange, if rather familiar, pressure. He stopped walking and turned around. "Hey, bastard, you know you're really bad at concealing your spiritual energy. Right?"

Ulquiorra stepped out from behind a wall. "I wasn't trying to conceal myself. I simply wished to give a little notice before showing myself to you."

"Bullshit. What do you want?"

"Well…you remember that…weakness you discovered?"

"What? You mean the fact that you're—"

Ulquiorra covered Sexta's mouth. "Not here. Let's go to my rooms." Grabbing onto teal-hair's wrist, he Sonidoed them to his door, then dragged the cursing Hollow into his rooms, closing the door behind them.

"What the fuck? Why'd you drag me over here for?!"

"I told you," said Ulquiorra, wanting _so much_ to slap Grimmjow upside the head. "We're here about that…ticklishness issue. I believe that my…ticklishness is a weakness that could possibly be exploited by higher-ranked Espada." He paused, and said in a bit of a rush (he couldn't believe he was asking this piece of trash for assistance), "I also believe that the effects of this activity will lessen if one builds up a tolerance. To build a tolerance, I've concluded that I must be tickled regularly in order to build said tolerance. While I have tried to build up this tolerance myself, I've found that it is impossible to tickle oneself. Thus, in order to cure myself of this weakness, I need you to perform the act on me."

Grimmjow was smirking by this time. "So you admit that you need my help."

Irritated, Ulquiorra replied with a terse, "Yes. And if you don't help me, I'll be forced to dispose of you. I cannot risk the weakness being known."

Grimmjow rolled his eyes. "Alright, alright…"

"Good. Let's get started."

----

( few hours later…)

"BUAHAHAHAHAhahahaSTOP! Stop! Hahaha…."

They weren't getting anywhere. No matter how many times Grimmjow tickled the damn guy, he kept laughing and squirming, and his ticklishness didn't seem to get any better at all. In fact, if anything, it seemed to be getting_ worse_. And to top things off, all that squirming was doing the same thing to him as it had before. Except this time, he wasn't allowed to get off (no pun intended). AND THE GUY KEPT WRIGGLING. The Sexta Espada tried to stay on, but eventually he just really couldn't stay on anymore, so he just gave up and got up. Thank goodness for bastard Espadas ignorant to the ways of the world. Or else he might've been Ceroed to Soul Society.

A few seconds later, a tickle-high, hard-breathing Ulquiorra glared at him coldly and asked, "What are you getting up for? We're not done yet." Cuarta was propped up on his elbows, panting and very slightly flushed (if you used the standards of normal-colored people to measure). His legs were splayed wide over the edge of the rumpled bed, making for quite the suggestive and lascivious picture.

Ohhhh boy. That really did nothing good for the whole situation down under. He had to admit, horrible personality aside, the guy was actually quite attractive—those big green eyes and soft, fluffy black hair…that delicate face, slim body, and small bone structure…Waaaait a minute. He was _not_ thinking about how bangable-looking someone he was going to kill was. Nope. Negative. Oh fuckin' goddamn_ hell_ no.

"Well?" said Ulquiorra impatiently. "We have a timetable to stick to, so hurry up and get back on me."

"No!" said Grimmjow.

"You said you would, now _get back here and finish what you started_."

"NO!"

"Why not?!"

"Because…uh…" Sexta was at a loss for words. He wasn't going to have to tell Ulquiorra about the birds and bees, was he…?..

"..And _what_ is that thing you're trying to hide in your pants?!"

Fuck.

-----

"…and so, after the thing gets put in, they have something called 'sex', okay? And that's all."

After several extremely embarrassing hours of trying to explain the concept of sex to someone who obviously had no idea where children came from and who was very curious to learn, he was relieved. _Pretty sure I answered all his questions…_

"Wait. The thing just has to go in a hole or some sort of tunnel, right?"

"Uh...yeah. So that's why masturbation works."

"…so….technically, it neither has to be a vagina or, in fact, a female at all."

"…Uh…that's right…"

"So it could be with another male."

"….Yeees…" _Oh god this is awkward. ISN'T HE DONE YET??_

"Oh."

Silence.

"I was just curious as to the nature of the thing in your pants. And why it was there."

Embarrassed, Grimmjow tried to save some semblance of dignity with an indignant, "I thought you had one too. Don't you ever get like that?"

Ulquiorra put a finger on his lip and hummed thoughtfully. "…well, only once or twice upon waking."

"See? It just sort of happens sometimes."

"Oh…" they sat there in awkward silence for a bit. "You can leave, if you like, Sexta."

He did. Wasn't as if the first session had produced any success, anyhow.

------

They kept at the tickle sessions, even though they didn't seem to be making Ulquiorra any less ticklish than he was originally. Ulquiorra, now informed upon the nature of erections and what must be done to alleviate them (though thankfully for the Sexta Espada, he still thought that they just sort of happened sometimes with no warning, and not because of the intense grinding action of hips on hips.) allowed Grimmjow to get up and rest for short periods of time instead of cracking a whip and demanding that he keep on.

END PART I

---~-----~

(and here's the preview for part II)

Ulquiorra was thinking again upon the subject of his ticklishness (something that never ever ever ever boded well for Grimmjow). It should've been much better, and yet still, he remained as sensitive as the first time. There was no improvement the way there should've been, and that bothered him. A lot.

Out of options in the isolated night of Los Noches, he decided to take a trip to the human world and search for information. Apparently, there was thing called the "Internet", which was like a giant meeting of everyone in the world, and all the books and information in the world, all compressed into a screen, a sort of board with buttons on it, and an oval stone with two buttons on one end. Unfortunately, as the "Internet" was a wholly human invention, he had to get a gigai in order to use it. And to get a gigai, he had to go to that idiot Szayel.


	2. The Internet is for Research

PART II

**Author's Notes:** The lovely **ImFreeFallin** pointed out to me that it was Tousen that lopped off Grimmjow's arm, not Ichigo…however; for all intents and purposes, we'll just pretend that this is an alternate version of events, yeah? It is fanfiction, after all^^ (HEAR US ROOOOAR!!!). Also, thank you to Diorcrystal, who wrote _Just Like a Girl,_ which helped me realize all the funniness that might arise from a guy, well, looking like a girl, and just being a great writer in general.

Methinks Szayel would be slightly oily when talking to his superiors…

And yes, the site is supposed to sound silly and cliché. You know that's how they always are.

And if anyone gets the innuendoes (this chapter, the one before, and anything else in the future), do tell if you got as much lulz as I did.

I love all you reviewers, favoriters, and e-mailers!

Yeah. But I dunno, I feel like this chapter is really choppy, and I'm just not sure how to fix it…I'm sorry, you guys… _

For a crappy picture I've drawn of the gigai, go to photobucket{dot}com{slash}albums{slash}jj248{slash}Par-a-doxismminant{slash}?action=view¤t;=Ulquigigcleaner{dot}jpg. Or you can go to my profile…

Perhaps I'll continue this. But I'm not sure…let me know what you guys think^^.

Sorry for the even-longer-than-last-time note….

**I do not own Bleach or Google.

* * *

Ulquiorra was thinking again upon the subject of his ticklishness (something that never ever ever ever boded well for Grimmjow). It should've been much better, and yet still, he remained as sensitive as the first time. There was no improvement the way there should've been, and that bothered him. A lot.

Out of options in the isolated night of Los Noches, he decided to take a trip to the human world and search for information. Apparently, there was thing called the "Internet", which was like a giant meeting of everyone in the world, and all the books and information in the world, all compressed into a screen, a sort of board with buttons on it, and an oval stone with two buttons on one end. Unfortunately, as the "Internet" was a wholly human invention, he had to get a gigai in order to use it. And to get a gigai, he had to go to that idiot Szayel. How inconvenient.

* * *

"Szayel."

The pink-haired scientist looked up from where he was (rather gorily) taking apart some unfortunate Hollow. "Yes, Ulquiorra-sama?"

"I require a gigai. Preferably one that doesn't look exactly like me."

"…why is that?" asked Szayel, pulling off his gloves and sucking the blood and gristle off of them. He discarded them and wrapped up what was left of the cadaver, placing it in the freezer. Ulquiorra gave him a freezing look that said very clearly that if the scientist didn't stop asking questions and hurry up, he could expect to end up worse than the cadaver he'd just finished with. The scientist, slightly intimidated by the glare (and more intimidated by the silent threat), went into the room in the back with all the spare gigais. Ulquiorra could hear him rummaging around rather loudly. "Ulquiorra-sama, would you prefer—?"

"It doesn't matter. Just get me one that's not too…outlandish-looking. And hurry up. Time is of essence."

"Ah…well, I think I've found one that'll be alright," said the Octava Espada, waddling with a little difficulty out of the back room, a gigai in his arms. It had short, brick-colored hair cropped in sort of a pixie cut, with longer, sidesweeping bangs and a small mouth. The body was hidden, as it was in a thick, wrinkled bag, which the scientist unzipped in the back. Szayel held the false body up and gestured for his superior to go inside.

Ulquiorra opened his—the gigai's—eyes, and looked in the mirror helpfully provided in the corner of the room. As he took a good look, something(s) came to his attention.

"Szayel," he said quietly. "Why do I have breasts?" The words were slightly awkward on his tongue, but he felt he _had _to ask.

The scientist looked at him nervously. "Well, Ulquiorra-sama, you said you wanted to look different…so I got you a female body with shorter, more light-colored hair and...um, more norma—I mean, a different skin tone…"

Cuarta examined his nude body in the mirror. True to Szayel's word, it didn't look much like him, besides maybe the basic build and the components of the face, what with the lack of markings, hollow hole, and helmet (among other things). Not to mention the addition of walnut-brown eyes framed by curling, defined lashes the same color as the gigai's hair, wider hips, and the aforementioned breasts. He cupped a delicate hand over each one and squeezed tentatively. They were about a handful each, maybe the size of a rice bowl, and the soft flesh bulged gently through the gaps of his fingers. Then he bent down and ran his hands down the stomach and sides, slipping his hands inside the junctions of pudendum and legs. He stood up again, turning around to face Szayel.

The scientist watching him swallowed, thinking about how he really should hack into the humans' Internet systems again and download some more porn. He did have such a weakness for redheads, after all…

"The gigai seems to be fine. Do you have any clothes?"

"Ah…yes," mumbled Szayel, slipping slightly out of his hot redhead chick-induced fantasies. _This is the perfect chance for me to make (at least) one of my fantasies real! _The scientist cackled gleefully in his mind as he went into a chest of clothes. "How long will you be in the human world?" he asked, going through various (rather scandalous) articles of clothing.

"…This shouldn't take more than one day."

"Oh, I have the perfect clothes, Ulquiorra-sama!" said Szayel, practically squealing and clapping with glee. After rummaging a little more, he handed Ulquiorra a few articles of clothing. Ulquiorra, not caring much if the scientist saw him (number one, he was nude anyways, and number two, it wasn't really his body) pulled on the clothes.

He struggled a little with the strappy bits, and when he finally got everything on, he looked in the mirror again.

"Are you sure this is what people are wearing out on the streets?"

He pulled a little at the band of tight, teensy leather shorts with cutouts along the sides.

"Oh, yes, all the young people today wear very tight and revealing clothes." _Not usually this tight and revealing though! _the scientist cackled mentally.

"Oh…"said Ulquiorra. He pulled at the fishnet and leather top that the (perverted) scientist had given him and sighed quietly.

It was going to be a loooong day.

---------

Ulquiorra—or rather, "Cora", as Szayel had suggested he call himself in case anyone asked—stepped out of Gargantua and into the sun. He squinted for a moment, not used to the bright heat that was currently assaulting him. If it was this hot to be a human, no wonder they wore such revealing clothes!

"I suppose it can't be helped," he sighed, and wiped the sweat off his forehead. Ulquiorra began to walk towards the town, a bit of a distance, as Szayel had directed him to a park a little ways from town. That was so that the nature of his arrival could remain hidden from the humans that might be milling around in a more crowded area. He looked at the map he'd been given. "Let's see…a left, pass two streets, and there should be a café…"

He looked up from checking his map once again as he finally got to the center of the town There were several people staring at him…specifically, at several points below his head. Pulling slightly self-consciously at the hem of his shorts, he saw an old lady walk past, shaking her head, and muttering, "Kids these days…"

Feeling awkward and rather aggravated in the strange body and strange clothes, he looked icily at everyone staring at him and proceeded to keep walking towards his destination, pretending that he didn't want to just cero them all and eat their souls.

_You have a mission. You are here for Internet, for research. None of this trash surrounding you matters for now. You can eat them later…after you kill that idiot Szayel…_ he thought to himself, in a (rather lame) attempt to make himself feel more like himself. That is, Ulquiorra Schiffer, Cuarta Espada, and not Cora, random hot redhead in tight, revealing clothes.

Finally, he arrived at the café and went in, goosebumps rising on his skin at the sudden drop in temperature (For all his trashiness, Ulquiorra had to give Szayel some credit for realism…). Signing in at the counter and paying for an hour's use, he sat down at a vacant computer and began to Google "cure ticklishness" (Szayel had conveniently provided instructions on how to "Google" things. Ulquiorra wondered briefly how, exactly, the scientist had come upon the instructions). The sheer amount of results was mindboggling! Who knew there were so many experts on cure ticklishness in the world?!

He clicked on the first result. _Have someone tickle you until you're used to it_, it said. _I've tried that already_, he thought to himself. _It didn't make a significant difference_…Clicking through several other results, he grew increasingly irritated at the garbage that popped up. Every single site said the same thing—essentially, be tickled enough and it would go away.

He narrowed his eyes and muttered at the screen, "Well, that didn't work, obviously. Don't you have any other advice?" …

He glanced at the corner of the screen. His hour was almost up, and apparently there were still 10,023,482,340,934,802,834 results to go through. As he scrolled, something caught his eye. "JUST BEING TICKLED CONSTANTLY NOT WORKING TO CURE YOUR TICKLISHNESS? TRY THIS (CLICK HERE)!" Apparently it was from a website called sexworks{point}com. Feeling slightly hopeful, he clicked on the link. (A/N: that not a real site, don't even try to Google it…written that way because otherwise, FF takes it out…)

_So you've tried everyone else's advice. "Get tickled and you'll no longer be ticklish". Maybe you've tried it and it really hasn't worked. So here's a different approach to it:_

_THE TANTRIC APPROACH!!_

_The power of lovemaking has been proved time and time again. Its health benefits are many. Cardiac exercise, the release of serotonin and other "happy" chemicals…and now, it even cures ticklishness!_

_Our studies, carefully and lovingly looked over, have shown that stimulation to the areas of ticklishness during sex will, due to the addition of sexual pleasure, change the often painful, unpleasant effects of tickling to ones of utmost pleasure! _("The problem is," thought Ulquiorra, "that I only have a very vague, general idea of how this 'sex' thing is supposed to happen.")

The webpage went on extolling the effects of sex for several pages, and then:

_Frequently Asked Questions:_

_What is sex?_

_How do I have sex?_

And so forth. He glanced at the clock again. Ten minutes. Clicking on the second question, he began to read…

* * *

Ulquiorra stepped out from between the teeth of Gargantua. He walked silently to Szayel's laboratory, where he stripped off the gigai. Able to use his powers again, he sonidoed to Grimmjow's room. There was something he needed to do…and while most everyone was not paying attention.

* * *

_Tap tap tap._

Grimmjow cracked an eye open from where he was dozing on his bed. Who the fuck was bothering him _now_?

_Tap tap tap._

He got up and wrenched the door open. "What?!" he snarled.

Ulquiorra looked at him calmly. He was ready. He'd carefully studied the tactics mentioned by the expert, or rather, "sexpert", as the person apparently wished to be known as. He had a _plan_. "Do you always have to be this loud?" he asked, gazing up through lashes the color of kohl. Pushing past the larger Espada, he went into the room.

_The hell is this guy playing at?_ thought Grimmjow. _He's either ignores me or insults me most of the time, and I can't even tell what he's trying to do now. Is this the male version of PMS or something?_

Closing the door cautiously, a suspicious look on his face, Grimmjow turned towards the inside of his room, where Ulquiorra was standing with his back to him, looking out the window. The moon was glowing its usual pale platinum, light streaming through the window. Grimmjow'd always found it rather odd how something that looked and shone so bright could fail to illuminate anything enough for it to matter.

For some reason, though, the light was hitting Ulquiorra, actually irradiating him. The light spangled his inky hair with silvery soft edges and gave his skin a sort of luminescence. Cuarta turned slightly and looked over his shoulder at Grimmjow then, and the teal-haired Espada swallowed. Huge, vividly green eyes looked straight into his own turquoise ones, piercing and puncturing something inside. Something twisting oddly inside of him, he found himself walking towards the pale figure glowing ethereally in the moonlight, lips slightly parted to match those of the other, but silence between them. Closing the distance, Grimmjow wasn't really sure what he was doing as he reached for Ulquiorra.

------

I'm just going to leave it here for now until I can muster up the strength to rewrite…dang it, I'm mad. I was putting the lemon part into a separate document (that is, the other HUGE portion of this), and my mom decided she was going to spend several hours watching Sense and Sensibility…about 17 times. So she sent me to bed, and I couldn't paste the document. She shut the computer down, so this morning, when I checked, I realized that it was all gone. So I have to rewrite all of it…really sorry for making you guys wait, only for this.


End file.
